


FREE SPACE

by costumejail



Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [7]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: (barely), Cherri Cola's Poetry Corner, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costumejail/pseuds/costumejail
Summary: Sure, the Kobra Kid loves to race in derbies, but he also loves to come home to his boyfriend once all the races are over.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730209
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	FREE SPACE

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of the Zone Five Quarantine Fair for @killjoynest! The prompt was just a free space and I haven't written any KobraCola in a hot minute (Read: like two weeks) so here some is.

The Kobra Kid yawned as he pulled his helmet off. The adrenaline rush of the derby was fading and now, more than anything, he wanted to find something soft to curl up on. Leaving the garage, Kobra stumbled and found himself flat on his back in a crater that definitely hadn’t been there at sunset. Probably Fun Ghoul showing the Girl another grenade he’d been designing or something, Kobra made a note to ask them to not set off explosives so close to the garage which was filled with flammable materials. Kobra jerkily got to his feet, his ankle protested as he put weight on it but he ignored it and headed towards the diner.

Kobra pushed the door open gently, trying not to ring the bell that hung over the entrance. It jangled softly, but not enough to rouse Ghoul where he had fallen asleep on the floor, cross-legged, hunched over a half-assembled bomb. Kobra carefully moved the explosive to a nearby table and picked Ghoul up, heaving him over one shoulder. The heavy sleeper that he is, Ghoul didn’t even change his breathing as Kobra carried him into one of the bedrooms. Kobra deposited Ghoul onto the bed next to Party Poison, who opened an eye as he heard Kobra’s footsteps. Ghoul rolled over and latched onto Party as soon as he’d been laid down, Kobra cracked a small smile and put a hand on Party’s head for a moment before exiting the room again.

The hallway was dim as Kobra closed the bedroom door behind himself, the only light coming from a crack under the door at the very end of the hallway. Kobra passed the other bedroom and caught a glimpse of Jet and the Girl curled together on her bed, but the soft voice that he could hear from the broadcast room was far more enticing to him than Jet’s snores. Kobra paused at the end of the hallway with his eyes closed, barely able to make out the words filtering through the door but enjoying the soft cadence of them nonetheless. Then the darkness of the hallway came to be too much for him and Kobra pushed the door open and leaned against the doorframe.

A rusty lantern illuminated the room, the broadcast gear spread across the tables, and the man seat at the microphone, headphones on and eyes fixed on a book as he softly read.

“ _Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga,_ Break me, I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.” Cherri Cola cleared his throat and turned suddenly as he heard Kobra clap softly. He broke into a soft smile and turned back to the microphone. “And with that, tumbleweeds, I’m going to take a short break. To keep you company while I’m gone here’s _Building the Perfect Beast,_ a cold war album by Don Henley.” Cola started up a record and slid the headphones off.

“I liked that o-” Kobra started, but he was interrupted by Cola pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Hi.” Cola pulled back but stayed in Kobra’s space. He didn’t mind.

“Hi.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Kobra pushed back Cola’s hair, tugging gently on the blue streak he’d put there the night before.

“How was the derby?”

“Won some, lost some.” Kobra shrugged, “Glad to be back.”

“You missed Poison chasing Ghoul around the diner with a broom.” Laughed Cola, he grabbed Kobra’s hand and tugged him towards the old armchair that lay against one wall of the broadcast room. “Him and babygirl were playing with some old C-4 Doc dropped off. But Poison was trying to-” Cherri cut off. “You’re limping.”

“Tripped into the blast crater, twisted an ankle.”

“Let me look at it.” Cola pushed Kobra into the chair and knelt, carefully unlacing his boot and removing it without jostling Kobra’s ankle too much. “Witch, your feet _stink_. So anyway,” he continued as he poked at the joint, “Poison was trying to plan a dropoff with Alexa but kept losing their focus because of the noise so he finally snapped and-”

A hiss escaped Kobra’s teeth as Cola found a particularly sore spot. Cola pulled his hands back instantly and peered up at him, concern splashed across his scarred face.

“Did you know you can shape C-4 like clay without it exploding?” Kobra tried to deflect.

“I think that’s what Ghoul and the Girl were doing. I’m gonna have to wrap this up,” said Cola. He straightened up and pressed a kiss to Kobra’s forehead before turning to dig through the desk drawers. A moment later, he returned with a stretched out compression bandage. As he knelt again, he prompted Kobra, “So, shapeable explosives?”

A little unsteadily, as Cola began to tightly wrap his ankle, Kobra began to tell him about how he’d read about stable explosives, which turned into him rambling about elements that exploded when they touched the water, and before he knew it, Cola was done wrapping his ankle up. Kobra pulled him up and onto his lap, the chair was really too small for two young adults to share, but they made do.

“- and that was actually a big trend in prewar chemistry classes, the teacher would…” Cola’s head had rolled onto Kobra’s shoulder and he trailed off. “Am I boring you?”

Cola lifted his head and gazed up at Kobra, “Was just getting comfortable. It’s nice to hear you talk about this stuff.”

A smile crossed Kobra’s face. “Oh, okay.” He resumed his monologue and it seemed like no time had passed before Cola’s turntable clicked off.

Cola looked almost apologetic as he got to his feet, “That’s me, You gonna go to bed?”

Kobra shook his head and relaxed deeper into the armchair, “‘S my turn to listen to _you_ ramble.”

A blush spread across Cola’s face and he wordlessly settled back into the swivel chair at his desk, pulling headphones over his ears. “Sorry for the dead air for a sec there, the desert’s finest crash queen’s paying me a visit and he’s just a bit clingy at this time of night-” Behind Cola’s back, Kobra rolled his eyes. “- If you’re just joining us, this is Cherri Cola’s Poetry Corner with me, Cherri Cola. In just a minute I’ll be parroting the traffic that you might’ve missed throughout the day. But first, here’s an original piece by yours truly,” Cola cleared his throat and began to read.

From the armchair, the Kobra Kid stretched his arms up with a yawn and settled in to hear the zones’ second-most popular broadcast from the best seat in the house.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I referenced real-life media:  
> \- The Poem that Cherri is reading at the beginning of the fic is "To the Desert" By Benjamin Alire Sáenz which is an amazing poem by one of my favourite authors.  
> \- The album that Cherri puts on contains the song "The Boys of Summer" which is also one of my favourite songs and has good, kind of bittersweet, young romance vibes which I think match KobraCola pretty well for uh, obvious reasons.  
> \- Also if you were wondering, that's a real fact about C-4 that I just thought was fun and that Ghoul would ABSOLUTELY want to try out.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! This was my first time doing any kind of prompt week challenge and I'm pretty happy with everything I've put out! Now I get to return to the WIP I've been avoiding... Yay. So uhhh, feel free to leave a comment or shoot me an ask at my tumblr @sleevesareforlosers.


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